Blur – The Story of a Charmless Man Review

Vetoed from recent live performances, The Story of a Charmless Man, like much of The Great Escape and those novelty, working-class cosplay efforts from Blur, have rightly fallen out of favour. Country House still slipped into the Wembley set and felt like a fever dream, while Parklife is too big to remove and far too catchy. Still, The Story of a Charmless Man at least provides some insightful pops from Blur as they transitioned from twee countryside, post-war jangles to punchy numbers criticising the capitalist profiteers while brushing shoulders with them. What a strange time it was, and what a fine set of instrumental works the band provided during this period. Digging into their discography reveals song after song, a seemingly bottomless pit of B-Sides and bold experiences. The Story of a Charmless Man, inevitably, has those attached to it.  

A hopeful development of the story, a punchy guitar solo and some slick references to the popular drinks and drugs of the time, Blur brings in suggestive starts and develops them into excess. Expensive education, champagne clarifications and all the usual hang-ups of the genre, where easy access led to these upper-class encounters. But under the surface the childishness, the liberation from bowties and bluster, remains. Those “na-na-na” interjections may sound a bit light but their purpose is clear. They punch against a knowledge reserved for upper-class occasions, the knowledge of which fork to use and when. That sort of thought pushes anything of interest or use out of your brain and turns it into mush, a wet cake between the ears. But then the gluttony of the upper class and the braggadocious nature of being a member of the elite is, under all those jolly notions and chanting choruses, pulled down tremendously well by Blur.  

Once more reliant on exceptional guitar work from Graham Coxon, Damon Albarn charts a course through experiences of an egalitarian lifestyle. His disgust may not be heard all too clearly but after a few listens, it is clear. B-Side additions like The Horrors feel vaguely memorable – like little scraps of litter in the brain. Those carnival ride-like noises Blur would often pair with their Modern Life is Rubbish and Parklife B-Sides are heard, slightly, here. String sections and a bit of piano work bring on a wonderful instrumental piece, far exceeding any of the other extra tracks the band provided. About as consistent as it gets for the B-Sides, a real high of steady qualities from Blur over A Song and St. Louis.  

The Story of a Charmless Man is very nearly overshadowed by its extra tracks. Had they been a little longer, a tad more thought put into what story they are hoping to transfer to a listener, then it would. But the catchiness of Charmless Man is hard to contend with even if there are a few shortcomings, a story not quite fulfilled. Cutting through the sweet rhythm sections and suggestions of contemporary occasions, the champagne-guzzling lead stands as a glowering resentment. A quiet one, softly prodded by the band and exploding on their next album, of the status quo they had become a part of, almost accidentally. Their desire to break from it is heard with subtle jabs at the higher echelons here but never comes to a head until their self-titled work years later.